


Big ass enough for you?

by lilmisslola



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Dare, First Kiss, Kissing Booths, M/M, Minty Fic Week, One Shot, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmisslola/pseuds/lilmisslola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Minty prompt fills and one-shots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I dare you

**Author's Note:**

> Minty "my friends noticed me staring at you from across the bar and dared me to make out with you"

“Ok, ok, never have I ever… almost blown my face off playing around with electricity because I’m a genius who doesn’t need safety equipment.”

  
“Not cool, Reyes,” Wick said with narrowed eyes as he and Monty both took a drink. It was Friday night and the three of them were sat in their usual bar unwinding from the week. After a few rounds, Wick had suggested a game of Never Have I Ever and half an hour in, they were having to get decidedly more creative.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Raven shrugged, smirking

“Well, in that case, never have I ever lied to my boss about my _dear_ grandmother being _very_ sick to cover for the fact that I was actually the one being sick after a night of hard liquor and misguided tacos,” Wick kept his face a picture of innocence. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

  
Raven stuck her tongue out at him and took her drink. Monty chuckled as they began to bicker good-naturedly and leaned back in his chair, glancing around the room. When Wick had announced that he and Raven had finally made it official, Monty had been the first to congratulate him, and tease him that it was about damn time. But while he loved his friends, their new couple-ness made him feel a little like a spare part when they were all hanging out together.

Instead, he let his eyes fall once again on the guy at the bar. Monty had spotted him when they’d walked in; a young guy about his own age, dark-skinned and broad, with ridiculous good looks and a quiet smile. Not that Monty had been staring. Just looking over periodically, a totally normal amount. Ridiculously Good-Looking (as Monty was referring  to him and yes, the capitals were necessary) was with another guy (also stupidly good looking) and Monty had thought at first that they were a couple, until Ridiculously Good-Looking’s friend had started flirting outrageously with a beautiful blonde girl next to him, pretty much leaving Ridiculously Good-Looking to his own devices, nursing a drink as he leaned against the counter. Monty sympathised.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Raven loudly proclaiming her next statement. 

  
"Never Have I Ever ignored my awesome friends in an awesome game of Never Have I Ever to spend half the night staring at a hot guy across the bar.” Monty turned to see her looking pointedly at him and took a drink from his glass to hide his embarrassment at being caught. 

  
Raven rolled her eyes. “Seriously Monty, I’ve been watching you watch him for like an hour. Just go make out with him already,” she said, as Wick craned his neck to get a look at Ridiculously Good-Looking.

  
“Raven, I can’t just go up to a total stranger and make out with them,” Monty said, mortified at the thought. He glanced back towards the bar before his head whipped back around to see a shit-eating grin on Wick’s face. “Don’t.”

  
” _I_ _dare_ _you_ ,” his supposed-friend said and now there was a matching grin on Raven’s face too. “I dare you to go make out with him.” 

  
Monty groaned in defeat, closed his eyes for a beat and let his head fall, knowing what it meant. 

  
“Engineers Code, man,” Wick said, gleefully and Monty truly hated him right now. The Engineers Code was something Wick had concocted for everybody in their first month working together, though only he and Monty really abided by it now. As per the code, once a dare was issued, it had to be taken up or the dare-ee was subject to forfeit, and with Wick, forfeits were almost always mind-scarringly awful.

  
“Fine,” Monty said, defiant in the face of his “friends’” betrayal. He stood, downing the rest of his drink and turned towards the bar. “But if I get punched in the face, you’re buying all my meals and drink for the next three months.”

The alcohol buzzed pleasantly through his body, dulling his quickened heartbeat as he walked, Raven’s order not to reveal the dare before it happened following after him. Ridiculously Good-Looking noticed him as he approached, his eyes running quickly over Monty, who thought he saw a hint of appreciation in them.

  
All too soon, ( _were they really sat that close to the bar?_ ) the two men were stood face to face and Monty could see that Ridiculously Good-Looking was only a couple inches taller than himself and even more gorgeous this close up. He had a tightly-trimmed beard that set off the angles of his face perfectly and deep brown eyes which were looking at him expectantly, and Monty knew he couldn’t put it off any longer.

  
“Hi, uh, I’m Monty… Please don’t hit me for this.”

  
With nothing more to say, he grabbed the front of the Good-Looking’s shirt and pulled him in, pressing their lips together with his eyes squeezed shut. Seconds, or possibly hours, went by with Ridiculously Good-Looking not responding, so much that when he finally did move to raise his arms, Monty tensed, preparing for the punch. 

  
Instead, he found himself being pulled closer, being kissed back. Good-Looking slipped a hand into Monty’s hair, the other on a hip as Monty’s found their way to the toned arms and chest in front of him. A tongue licked at his closed lips and Monty opened them automatically, allowingthe other man  to explore his mouth. At the first caress of his tongue against the other’s, Good-Looking groaned deep in his throat, the sound rumbling through his chest into Monty who hummed back, deepening the kiss and attempting to ignore the wolf-whistles and whoops from Raven and Wick back at their table. 

  
Suddenly aware of their very public setting and very obvious audience, Monty reluctantly pulled out of the kiss, hands sliding over the fabric of the shirt, feeling the tension of muscles underneath, and slowly, Good-Looking followed suit. There was a moment of awkward silence between them as Monty struggled to find the words to explain. Ridiculously Good-Looking’s friend and his flirting partner were staring at them, surprised looks on both their faces. Good-Looking broke the silence.

  
” _Why_ would I hit you?” He smiled, frowning amusedly and Monty’s heart skipped.

  
He blinked a couple times, processing the question and making the connection. “Oh, yeah, that. I, uh, just wasn’t sure how you’d react to a complete stranger walking up and kissing you. See, I wouldn’t normally be so forward except my friends,” he gestured to Wick and Raven who grinned and waved at them, eliciting an eye-roll from Monty. “They dared me and we have this stupid rule where you _have_ to go through with dares or else, so…”

  
He trailed off, looking back at Ridiculously Good-Looking, whose eyes were on the table behind Monty, the smile no longer on his face.

“I see,” he said, seriously and Monty suddenly realised the implications of what he’d said. 

  
“Oh, God, no! That’s not what- I didn’t mean- I wanted to kiss you!” 

Good-Looking’s eyebrows shot up at that and Monty fought down a blush. 

  
“I just was kinda reluctant to come over ‘cause you’re _really_ hot and I tend to ramble a lot when I’m nervous and I didn’t want to make an ass of myself, although I think I probably still have so I’m just gonna go back to my friends now and we can forget this ever happened…” 

  
He turned away from Ridiculously Good-Looking, determined to take all his embarrassment and self-resentment out on Wick for ever coming up with his stupid code. He was stopped by a hand wrapping around his wrist.

  
"Wait… Monty, is it?” Good-Looking asked, nodding at Monty’s confirmation. “I’m Miller- Nathan,” he corrected himself. The smile was back in his face causing a fluttering in Monty’s stomach. “Let me buy you a drink?”

  
Monty looked at him in disbelief. “Seriously? You want to buy _me_ a drink? After everything, don’t you think it should be the other way around?”

Ridiculously Good-Looking, Nathan, shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? I guess I have a thing for asses.” 

  
A faint blush tinged Nathan’s cheeks as he realised what he’d said and Monty knew instantly that he liked this guy. They both laughed at the innuendo, any tension left from the earlier misunderstanding dissipating. Monty met Nathan’s eyes and gave a sweet smile.

  
“Well then, how can I resist?”


	2. Kissing booth au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monty sets up a kissing booth.

“So in short, Nick’s affections for Gatsby, Daisy and the others mean that we have to consider him, and the story he tells, unreliable.”

The bell sounded for lunch and the class rose as one, grabbing their bags as the teacher called after them about an essay due next week. Miller waited outside the door for Bellamy and they fell into step, heading towards the cafeteria.

“Man, I haven’t even started that essay yet,” Bellamy laughed and Miller rolled his eyes.

“I know you’ve pretty much got a scholarship on-lock but they still like you to at least try, you know?” He teased, squashing the tinge of jealousy in his chest. Bellamy was the district’s star quarterback so it was only right he’d been offered a free ride from three different colleges. _He deserves it_ , Miller thought as he navigated the hustle and bustle of the lunch room to grab a tray and join the line.

“Hey, you just keep playing like you have been this season and that scout in gonna be all over you on Saturday,” Bellamy assured him as they took their now-full trays and joined the rest of the team at their usual table. Scattered across it today, however, were half a dozen eye-catching orange leaflets with block lettering on them. Miller picked one up to read as he chewed absent-mindedly on his chicken salad.

  
CHARITY KISSING BOOTH  
ONLY $1 A KISS  
ALL PROCEEDS TO GO TO THE TREVOR PROJECT  
30th APRIL/1st MAY 2015

 

“A kissing booth?” Bellamy asked, reading the leaflet over Miller’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s being run by some junior, Monty something, tomorrow and Friday,” Mbege replied, disinterestedly.

“Monty Green? He’s friends with my sister. You remember him, right Miller?” Bellamy turned to him, a huge grin on his face and Miller felt his cheeks start to heat a little.

“Sure, I guess,” he mumbled and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“You guess? Well, all I know is there were some serious vibes going on between you two the last time you were both over mine.”

“Really? I’m surprised you noticed considering you barely took your eyes off of Murphy all night,” Miller countered in a low voice so the guy in question didn’t hear, and felt a gleam of triumph as Mbege chuckled, knowingly and Bellamy immediately found his food a lot more interesting.

Trouble was, he was right. In his passing interactions with Octavia, and by association, Monty, Miller had somehow developed a crush on the younger boy. It was ridiculous really; he barely knew the guy. Except, of course, that he had just turned 17, was best friends with Jasper Jordan, was in AP Chemistry, Physics, Math and Computer Science and was acing everything else anyway, wanted to go into engineering in college, was incredibly possessive over chocolate cake (Octavia’s birthday told him that) and, if Murphy was to be believed, was running a small pot ring with supplies taken from his parents’ pharmacy. That was it. A totally non-stalkerish amount to know about a person. Ok, so Miller was in deep and he’d never said more than a ‘hey, how’s the cake?’ to him.

But now Monty had set up a kissing booth and Miller was completely torn. He _could_ be a terrible person and use the pretence of charity to extract a kiss from an incredibly cute guy (and to be honest, he’d be first in line if he thought Bellamy would ever let him live it down). The issue being though, that he’d probably end up being too embarrassed to speak to Monty again after the effort of queuing and paying for a kiss. His second option was to refuse to participate altogether, in which he ends up being the dick who wouldn’t give a dollar to charity and also ends in him being too embarrassed to speak to Monty ever again. _Do other people have this much trouble over a crush?_ He wondered, before deciding to put it out of his mind and concentrate on the rest of his classes that day.

   
The next morning before class, he caught sight of the booth and of Monty stood behind it. A queue of at least fifteen students had already formed in front, the first being Octavia, because the world would be damned if the Blakes didn’t look out for their friends. As Monty moved to switch the sign from ‘closed’ to ‘open’, he caught Miller’s eye across the hall. He smiled brightly and winked, causing Miller’s heart to stutter a little and he returned what he hoped was an encouraging smile, fighting down a blush and sweaty palms. He watched as Monty turned to Octavia who gave him the biggest kiss Miller had ever seen anybody give a friend, and heard her joke about getting her money’s worth as she put a couple dollars into the jar. Monty laughed and thanked her, and Miller was seriously going to have to think about joining that queue.

Unfortunately, with essays to work on and with a big game coming up that weekend (luckily at home), the coach had ordered extra practice during lunch and after school, which meant Miller barely got to see anything other than the field and the library, and anybody but the team, and even when he did manage to swing by the auditorium, Monty had a line way longer than Miller felt comfortable standing in.

By the time practice wound down on Friday afternoon, it looked like Miller’s decision had been made for him. Coach hadn’t kept them too long, not wanting to burn them out before the game, but still, it was just past 4 and most everybody else was long gone. Glancing at his watch, Miller sighed and Bellamy patted him on the shoulder, looking sympathetic. After Miller’s comment the other day, he’d been smart enough not to tease him anymore about the kissing booth, but had still been keenly aware of Miller’s missed opportunity.

Just wanting to get home and focus on tomorrow, Miller showered cursorily and told Bellamy he’d meet him at his truck. But rounding the corner from the locker room, he collided heavily with someone in front of him.

“Hey, earth to Miller, watch where you’re going, huh?” Octavia berated him, but it was without spite.

“Sorry, my head’s somewhere else. What are you still doing here?” Miller asked, tiredly.

“I teach self-defence on Fridays, remember? Plus, I told Monty I’d help him take the booth down since his supposed-best friend is too busy with whichever girl it is this week to give a damn.” Her distaste was evident but Miller hadn’t heard anything passed Monty.

“He’s still here? Monty, I mean?” He asked, his weariness evaporating.

Octavia cocked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well yeah, but he’s probably almost done, he told me to go on home while he packed up the last of it,” she told him, raising her voice as Miller shot off down the corridor towards the auditorium. He just about heard her call sarcastically after him; “You’re welcome!”

Miller slowed as he reached his destination, pulling his wallet out and noticing he only had a $10 bill or a couple dimes in it. _Better than nothing_ , he thought and at this moment in time he didn’t mind the extra pay out. He turned the corner and sent up a silent thanks to whoever was out there that Monty was still there, just tucking the booth into a nearby janitor’s closet for safe-keeping.

Miller jogged ( _casually_ ) the last few yards down the corridor, catching Monty’s attention. The other boy looked up, his expression instantly changing to one of pleasant surprise.

“Hey Miller,” he smiled warmly.

“Hey, am I too late?” Miller asked, flashing the bill in his hand.

“Booth closed at 4, I’m afraid,” Monty answered, looking back down as he zipped up his backpack, and any illusions Miller had about a connection between the two of them, shattered in an instant.

“Oh, ok. Well, um, here,” he held the bill out. “Take it anyway.’’

Monty reached a hand out, tentatively. “You sure?”

Miller shrugged a shoulder. “It’s for a good cause,” he conceded and turned to leave, silently kicking himself for being so stupid. He’d seen the queues of people lined up to use the booth, Monty probably wasn’t short on offers. He hadn’t gotten more than a few steps however, when he heard Monty speak.

“Well, I mean… since you’re here.” Miller spun on the spot, grimacing at his obvious eagerness. “This is a kissing booth and you did pay. Handsomely, I might add.”

Monty was smiling again, a playful twinkle in his eye. Miller opened his mouth to reply, realising too late that he had no idea how to respond to that.

“Uh…” he faltered, eloquently and Monty’s smile widened almost imperceptibly.

“Sure.”

Miller willed his feet to start moving, his heart rate quickening, and he closed the distance between them too quickly, leaving no time to prepare himself for the next part. Luckily, Monty had that covered. He snuck a hand up around the back of Miller’s head and pulled him down the couple inches, his own head tilted up, until their lips met.

The kiss was soft and chaste, and lasted only a few seconds before Monty was pulling back. It was to be expected from a guy who’d spent the last two days kissing dozens of random people but Miller couldn’t help but be disappointed. Monty barely let a fraction of air between them though before his lips were back on Miller’s and this time Miller wasn’t going to let his chance slip by. He slipped a hand into Monty’s hair, tongue swiping across the others lips which opened almost immediately to let him in. Contrary to popular belief, Miller hadn’t kissed all that many people, so his opinion was probably a little unreliable, but this had to be in the all-time top ten. It wasn’t one of those great cheesy cinematic kisses that everybody raved about. It was just sweet and simple and had Miller craving more even before it ended.

Of course, his phone chose that moment to start vibrating in his pocket as a call came through. Monty made an adorably surprised noise at the back of his throat and pulled back.

“You’re buzzing,” he commented, his voice low and his hair messy from Miller’s fingers. He looked gorgeous and Miller cursed whoever was calling him as he took out his phone. Caller id told him it was Bellamy just before it became a missed call and he gave a small sigh.

“That’s my ride,” he apologised. Monty looked disheartened for a split second before the twinkle was back.

“I guess you’ll have to cash in the rest some other time,” he mused and at Miller’s quizzical look, added, “It’s a dollar a kiss. You did pay me $10 and by my count you’ve only been recompensed for two of those.”

Miller felt his smile, and the warmth in his chest, grow as Monty spoke. “That’s true. You know, I have a game tomorrow night but-“

“I’ll be there,” Monty interrupted and once again, Miller had no idea what to say. And, once again, he was saved the trouble.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s freakin’ adorable but Bell’s gonna flip his shit if you don’t hurry up Miller, so come on!” They both turned to see Octavia standing in the entrance way, trying and failing to hide the look of amusement on her face. Miller smirked at the boy in front of him and shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Sure,” Monty replied and Miller walked out the door, feeling lighter than he had in weeks, hopeful about the game and a date with Monty. He didn’t miss the grin and thumbs-up Octavia shot Bellamy when they reached the car though.

After all, the Blakes always look out for their friends.


	3. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 1 of Minty fic week on tumblr.

_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_

Miller woke with a start, the obnoxious sound of his alarm dragging him forcefully from his sleep. He flung an arm out, flailing wildly until he hit the off button. 6.15. Rolling over, he was surprised to see an empty space beside him, a note left on the pillow. Monty had stayed over last night and Miller couldn’t remember a single time previously when his boyfriend had been up before him (the privileges of working for your college mentors – Raven might kick Monty’s ass but then Wick would roll in two hours later and Monty’s tardiness would be forgotten). He grabbed the note, squinting to read it through his sleep-crusted eyes and the light streaming in through the too-thin curtains.

_Nate,_

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!_

_Have a great day and I’ll see you tonight_

_Monty x_

Right, birthday. Miller had forgotten what today was, until Bellamy had asked, in front of Monty, what his plans were, and Monty couldn’t have been more shocked by his nonchalance.

In his defence, he’d never much been one for celebrating birthdays. Being a cop, you never knew what the future held, so rather than make plans he might eventually have to cancel, he usually just went about his day as normal and then got trashed with Bellamy and Murphy in that night. But this year, he had Monty, as his boyfriend (and Murphy, surprisingly) had reminded him. Or so he’d thought. He was admittedly a little disappointed that Monty had left so early. Miller had been hoping he’d stick around to wish him happy birthday in person, maybe a quick fumble under the sheets or in the shower before Miller had to leave for work… Still, they had plans to meet for food and drinks that night, so he pushing his disappointment away, pulling himself out of bed and going about his usual morning activities. Towelling off after his shower, he stopped to send off a quick text to Monty.

_Thanks for the note : ) Can’t wait to see you later xx_

Putting his phone in his jacket, he finished his morning routine and headed off to work.

The next time he checked his phone was over five hours later when he stopped to shovel some lunch down his throat, not having time to leave his desk. He had eight texts, all with birthday greetings in varying degrees of formality. One from his parents, promising a phone call later and a cheque in the post. Two from Clarke and Harper, full of emoticons, three more from Raven, Octavia and Murphy, full of swearing and sarcasm and one from Bellamy, despite the fact that they’d been sat opposite one another the entire morning and he’d had already received a card and gift (of alcohol, of course). The final one, Miller smiled to see, was from Monty. But his smile faded as he read the message.

_No worries._

A frown creased his forehead at the short, sharp response. Of course, he had no way of knowing the tone in which Monty had intended the words be read, but Miller was a pessimist at heart. He racked his brain, trying to think of anything he might have said or done the previous night that would have pissed the other man off, but he came up blank. They’d had a fairly standard evening, eating dinner and watching trashy TV before heading to bed. He couldn’t think what had caused Monty’s indifference today.

“Something wrong?”

Miller snapped his head up to see Bellamy looking at him, concerned. He sighed and explained his predicament. When he was done, Bellamy watched him for a few seconds, before replying.

“Maybe he’s not as in to you as you thought?” He shrugged and Miller stared at him, hoping the dismay he was feeling inside wasn’t as obvious on his face.

“Hey, I’m kidding,” Bellamy added quickly, erasing Miller’s hope. His partner smiled. “Seriously Miller, I’ve never seen two people more disgustingly happy than you two. I’m sure he’s just… busy.”

Miller nodded, weakly. “You’re probably right. I’m just gonna step out a second, get some air.”

When Miller reached the hall, he turned left and headed up the stairwell that lead to the roof. He didn’t fancy being downstairs where people would stop him to chat about inane things or wish him a happy birthday. Once, he was outside, he scrolled through his phone and his call when he got to Monty’s name. It rang only twice, before he heard Monty’s voicemail greeting. At the tone, he began to speak.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Just checking in, making sure you’re ok… and work’s ok… so yeah. Just call me back when you get this and let me know you’re ok… Ok. Bye.” Miller rolled his eyes and hit his phone against his head. _No wonder he doesn’t wanna talk to you, idiot._

For the rest of the day, the pile of paperwork on Miller’s desk got smaller by no more than a few sheets, as he caught himself, several times, staring intently at the form in front of him, his mind elsewhere. More than once, Bellamy had pulled him out of his thoughts by clearing his throat loudly and had even resorted to kicking him under the desk when that hadn’t worked, and Miller hated the sympathetic look he received whenever he checked his phone. At 5.45, Bellamy finally took pity on him and told him to go.

“I can’t, I still have all this to finish,” Miller protested, gesturing to the stack next to him. Bellamy cocked an eyebrow sceptically, before moving behind him and grabbing him by the shoulders to haul him up.

“Go on, go home. Go home and I’ll bet you anything Monty’s there and you’ll have a totally awesome birthday, for once.”

“I always have an awesome birthday,” Miller argued, taking his jacket from the back of his chair.

“Getting wasted with me and Murphy is your idea of a fun birthday? God, that’s sad,” Bellamy teased but Miller saw beyond the indifference. They’d both miss their informal tradition.

“Well then, I guess I’m sad,” he responded, lightly.

“In that case, you know where to find us if you and Monty get sick of your make-out sessions on the couch or anything.”

Or anything.

 _Like, he doesn’t actually turn up and I need to drown my sorrows and utter humiliation at having been dumped on my birthday,_ Miller’s mind so helpfully supplied.

Instead, he replied with an eye-roll and; “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Alright man well, happy birthday,” Bellamy held a hand out and pulled him into a quick hug when Miller took it. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Thanks man. Say hi to Murphy for me,” Miller told him as he turned and headed out the door and to his car. Within minutes, he was back at his building and opening his front door to an empty apartment. The pessimism threatened to rise again, but Miller reminded himself that they hadn’t agreed to meet until 7, so Monty still had more than enough time to make an appearance. Instead of worrying, he took the opportunity to shower and change, cracking open a beer as he reclined on to the couch and waited.

And waited.

7 o’clock came and went and still no Monty. At 7.20, he picked up his phone, checking his texts and voicemail to make sure he hadn’t missed something but there was nothing. The worry starting to creep back in, he typed out a quick text asking (casually) whether Monty was on his way, but received nothing back. So, at 7.45, he sent another, not so casually asking if his boyfriend was ok. As he was placing his phone back on the coffee table at 7.50 after the fifth time of checking, it began to ring and Miller hurriedly answered it without checking the ID.

“Monty?”

“No, it’s your mother,” the voice on the other end answered. “I’m just calling to wish you a happy birthday. Did you get my text this morning?”

“Oh, hey Mom. Yeah, I did, thanks,” Miller tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. He was pleased to speak to his mom, but he’d been hoping for Monty. “Have you had a good day?”

“It’s been fine, just had a lot of paperwork to do after that bust last week,” Miller recited, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Well, at least you caught them. Your father says hi, by the way,” his mother added, though Miller had already heard his dad in the background. “How have you been keeping? How is Monty?”

“I’m fine, Monty’s… fine.”

“And when are we going to get to meet him?” She asked and Miller felt the question settle like a lead weight in his stomach.

“Soon.”

“Well, you know, it’s your father’s birthday next month. Why don’t you bring him with you when you come?” Miller’s stomach churned at the suggestion but he acquiesced all the same.

“Listen Mom, I gotta go. Monty’s gonna be here in a second…” They said their goodbyes and Miller ended the call. It was now 8.05 and he was an irritating mix of worried sick and pissed off. After another call that went straight to voicemail, he decided he’d had enough. If he was being broken up with, then Monty could do it face to face, instead of cowardly screening his calls and texts. Slamming his half-finished beer on to the table, he grabbed his keys, walked out, got back into his car and started across town to Monty’s apartment.

Hitting zero red lights along the way, Miller made the journey in record time and suddenly found himself stood outside the door to the apartment Monty shared with Jasper. He really hoped Monty’s best friend wasn’t also inside; he didn’t need witnesses to this, least of all Jasper.

Raising a hand, Miller took a breath, and knocked.

No answer.

So again, he knocked, a little longer and louder.

No answer.

Miller leaned his head against the door and huffed a laugh, feeling like he was going insane. _Maybe I’m dead_ , he thought. _Maybe I died. That would explain a lot_. Shifting slightly, he heard his keys jangle in his pocket and remembered the spare Monty had given him last month. He slid his hand around the bunch and singled it out, debating with himself the moral implications of using it now. After shamefully little thought, he decided that a) he’d have to give Monty’s key back to him somehow and b) he was a cop so he could always claim power of entry if anybody complained. He pulling the key out of his pocket, he pushed it into the lock and turned. Entering the apartment, he was met with utter confusion.

The place looked simultaneously tidier than Miller had ever seen it, but also completely disarrayed. There were candles on almost every available surface, some lit and others not, most long burnt out. There was a slight smell of burning in the air that didn’t seem to be emanating from the candles. As he glanced into Monty’s bedroom on his way down the corridor, he saw clothes strewn across the bed and floor and started to wonder if they’d been robbed (by candle-loving thieves apparently, who hadn’t broken in). Rounding the corner to the open-plan living area, he finally saw Monty.

Miller’s boyfriend was stood at the kitchen counter. His dark hair was a mess, his cheeks were flushed and shiny and there was a smudge of flour on his forehead. He was wearing a grey college t-shirt covered with a ‘trust me, I’m an engineer’ apron. He was surrounded by dozens of dishes and cutlery and several strange rock-like objects, and was furiously mixing something in the bowl he was holding.

“Fuck, shit, motherfucker, why is this so hard?!” He muttered, angrily, stopping to read something from his laptop on the opposite counter.

“Uh…” Miller began, drawing Monty’s attention.

“Nate! What are you doing here?” The other man asked, glancing nervously around the room and at the counter in front of him.

“It’s… 8.30,” Miller checked his watch. “You said you’d be at mine at 7. Plus, you know, you left early this morning and you haven’t replied to any of my texts or calls. You didn’t answer the door, so I used my spare…”

Monty put the bowl down and dropped his head, bracing himself on the counter. He sighed.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Nate,” He groaned, sounding exhausted. Miller frowned and rounded the breakfast bar to stand next to him.

“What are you talking about? What is all this?”

Monty looked at him, his eyes shining. “I just wanted to give you a great birthday. So, I got up early to come back here and clean and tidy everything, and I was going to have it all set up with candles and make a cake, and I was supposed to have it all ready and be showered and looking amazing and then I was going to text you and suggest that you come here instead. But I took too long deciding what to wear and putting out all the candles and lighting them and then I couldn’t get the cake to go right,” Monty gestured around him and Miller suddenly realised that the rock-like objects were previous baking attempts. “And now you don’t have a cake or candles and I’m really sweaty, I’m wearing the scruffiest clothes I own and this ridiculous apron and my phone died so I’ve ignored you all day _on your birthday_ and you probably think I’m the biggest asshole.”

Miller took a moment to marvel at how Monty had seemingly said all that without taking a breath before pulling his boyfriend around to face him.

“Hey, I do not think you’re an asshole, in the slightest. You’re incredible,” he started, sliding his left hand to Monty’s jaw, tilting it to make eye contact. “And you look gorgeous, flour smudge and all.”

Monty reflected his smile, dropping his eyes down shyly. Miller indicated to the space around them. “And all this? Is amazing,” he dipped his head to place a chaste kiss on Monty’s lips. “You’re amazing.” Another kiss.

“I love you.”

As he moved in for another kiss, Monty pulled back an inch. When Miller looked up, he saw that Monty’s eyes were wide, his mouth parted.

“R-really?” He asked, and Miller suddenly realised what he’d said. His own mouth fell open but within seconds he knew his answer.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Monty face transformed into a broad smile and Miller couldn’t resist kissing it, knowing he was wearing one too. He threaded his fingers through Monty’s mess of hair and felt him hum against Miller’s lips. As the kiss wound down, Monty grazed his fingernails across Miller’s scruff, sending shivers down the latter’s spine.

“I love you too,” Monty murmured, softly and Miller couldn’t help kissing him again. Pulling away, he looked to the counter top beside them, Monty following his gaze.

“So, it’s fair to say I suck at baking.”

Miller grinned. “Maybe. But I’ve never cared much for cake anyway.”

Monty took advantage of his exposed jaw and neckline to pepper kisses along it. “Well, luckily for you, there are plenty of other things I’m good, some might even say mind-blowing, at.”

Miller smirked, closing his eyes as he lost himself in Monty’s touch. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. We’re gonna need a bed though,” Monty teased, undoing the strings of his apron. “So, you’d better follow me.”

Miller’s smirk widened as he watched his boyfriend lead the way.

“Best. Birthday. Ever.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Monty's 'trust me, I'm an engineer' apron is a real thing and was one of the first hits when I Googled 'amusing aprons'. It was destiny.


End file.
